


Sentence

by Anonymous



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, Gun injuries, Omega Dick Grayson, Omega Verse, Other, Physical Disability, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Joseph Smith was everything Blüdhaven despised. He was an omega, a survivor of a decade worth of abuse and the one who had tried to assault and kidnap Dick Grayson, due to an acute episode of psychosis. Now paralyzed from the waist down, Joseph's will have to serve in Arkham's asylum for an undefinite period.Except that if there's one thing Gotham has that Blüdhaven lacks, is the possibility of second chances. A place where the possibility of rehabilitation for convicted criminals exist. Now, ¿Will Joseph take it or be another statistic?Inspired by the story "Omegan Heat Sickness", approached to simply give more depth to the character I just want to hug. Now with an attempt to provide some fluff (it will take some time)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RichardGraysonPercyJackson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Omegan Heat Sickness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16762228) by [RichardGraysonPercyJackson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson). 



> So after reading Omegan Heat Sickness, I came across a significant feeling of sadness and despair for Joseph. I feel like Joseph is the embodiment of the tragedy that represents Blüdhaven. He's an outcast, an abuse survivor, rejected even by his own family who sold him to a person that only hurt him more. All he ever learn in his life was getting hurt, so when given the chance to hold onto someone that understands him he does exactly what destroyed him in the first place. He morphs himself into his biggest nightmare, losing the sense of reality by becoming the physical and emotional abuser he was subjected to. 
> 
> Now, I don't want to defend his actions because what he did was wrong. But if one takes into consideration his whole background and history (from the brief snippets we get on the firsts chapters), one can take pity for his situation. At the end of the story, he gets shots two times by Dick's Alphas, who are gun experts. Damian said that those two shots weren't lethal, but I got wondering...where exactly did he get shot? I don't think neither Slade or Jason aimed for the least painful area, but rather an area that could forever incapacitate him so he can never damage another person again. And if one thinks about it, there's a high possibility Joseph was sent to Arkham.  
> A.K.A  
> We never got the scene, I got inspired and wrote it xD

As soon as the judge dictated the sentence, Joseph’s world stopped for a moment. He sat there with his eyes wide open, struggling to process the information. His lawyer, the one hired by Bruce Wayne itself, simply shook his hand and left. Leaving Joseph at the hands of Arkham Asylum, to fetch him in twenty more minutes.

While the rest of the reporters and paparazzi where asking numerous questions to the Wayne family and the victim, Joseph went to the bathroom with that little forced he’d left. But it was hard trying to move across in a wheelchair, less when he had to hear whatever word people threw at him for trying to attack Bruce Wayne’s son.

Richard Grayson.

With a trembling arm, he closed the door and counted to three. He knew he had little time left before the guards noticed his absence and went looking for him, but he refused to taste the last seconds of freedom in the same room of his attacker.

They hadn’t informed him that Dick’s alpha would be there too. When he first saw the white streak of hair in the middle of the courtroom, Joseph panicked. All common sense left his body when he’d to look at the man who left him crippled.

Self-defense, he corrected himself. That was what the other party had said, for the brutal attack that left him paralyzed that night. He wasn’t given a chance to give his testimony about the incidents; on how they took their time leaving him agonizing in the floor and silencing him with a cloth. He hadn’t told the judge how he had to listen to Dick’s alpha convincing Batman he was better off dead.  How much he’d begged for help through muffled scream because couldn’t move or feel his legs, how he couldn’t crawl away or escape if Batman changed his mind because Robin had immobilized him.

By the time the paramedics finally arrived, Joseph knew he would remain paralyzed. At that point, there was no way they could reverse the damage. He spent five days at the hospital before he was informed of the charges against his persona, one day trying to contact any living relative to ask if they could lend him to pay for a lawyer or at least visit.

No one showed up.

And Joseph had wanted so bad, to refused Wayne’s help. He’d wanted to scream that he could fend for himself, to prove he could get out of this one and didn’t want Wayne’s pity money thrown at his face. But the reality was far more depressing. He was omega, paralyzed from the waist down, with no insurance, no income or stable job whatsoever.

He was a fool to even believe he could…he. Fuck, Joseph thought fighting the tears that were threatening to come. He’d been a fool to believe that someone would want him. A fool to dream that he could have what he’d never had.  A fool for believing Dick would want him and love him when he had two alphas waiting for him.  A fool for imposing the tactics his abusive alpha used on him for half a decade, believing that way Dick would stay just like he did.

He’d been a coward. A stupid, fucking coward for hurting a pregnant man. An imbecile for pushing out those childish fantasies that maybe, perhaps Dick felt the same way too. Now he was paying the price, alone in a bathroom waiting for the rest of his sentence to carry out while the rest of the world was celebrating justice being served.

Joseph stared at his reflection. From there, he could see the bandages hiding under the cast, covering half of his upper body. The doctor had told him he’d been lucky the bullet hadn’t hit any vital organ, but with his lower back damaged it was very unlikely to fully recover.

A knock on the door disrupted him. There was no doubt that the Arkham employees were waiting on the other side of the door. The cameras should have picked up where he went.

It was time.

“I’m coming,” He whispered letting the tears fall. There was no point in evading the inevitable. The damage was done, and now all he had to do was serve his sentence. It didn’t matter if all he ever wanted was to…

No, he thought, eyeing the door.

People like him didn’t deserve to be loved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so I know this story was supposed to be a one-shot but then I read it and became sad. Then when to write a second chapter fix-it fluff but it became more angst and sad, and now whelp! It's apparently a story, now. *sigh*

The first day Joseph was admitted to Arkham Asylum, he hoped that the doctors could help him lessen his sentence. If maybe they could talk to the judge about annual visits to the city for his good behavior or even just the possibility of reopening the case.

He didn’t expect the doctors shutting him down in an instant. Talking to the social worker hadn’t been any better, as he kept hearing the same speech repeatedly. So far, the only thing he had accomplished in the four months was being granted permission to close the bathroom door when he wanted to use it.

Joseph knew he should feel glad for such act of kindness, but it’s hard to stay grateful and positive with so many rules. Due to the judge declaring him dangerous to others, he was mostly confined to his room, with bare walls and minimal space. Anything remotely linked to the outside world such as newspaper or television has been a straight no-no for him. And while the rest of the patients have between three to five hours of recreational time (depending on their mental state) Joseph only had two.

Alone.

Not that Joseph minds doing crafts. It’s a welcomed distraction from being locked in his room most part of the day and it was the only activity he could partake due to his recent disability. He still struggled some days to keep up with menial task such as folding clothes or doing his bed, but he was positive he would recover.

Or well, tried to.

Today, was a far better day than most. A nurse had come picked him up, helped him changed before sending him to the doctor’s appointments, with the offer that if he was good enough there would be sweets.

And if there was weakness Joseph had…were sweets.

This time the doctor had only wanted to do a check-up, since the latest bath the nurse had noticed he’d drop some weight. Not that the food was bad or anything (it was better than all the food Joseph’s…other alpha gave him), it was just…hard trying to eat in general.

Then there was physical therapy which left him tired, aching and very sore. While at first, he’d been hesitant about his sessions (because why bother wasting resourcing on someone who will never walk again), Joseph had come to like them.

The physical therapist in charge of him was also sort of cute too. A beta with brown hair, hazel eyes and the kindness attitude Joseph ever seen. He was always encouraging him with a smile and a soft “come on Joseph I know you can do it”.

In the brief time Joseph had stayed there, the therapist had never lost his cool. He’d never raised his voice when Joseph couldn’t lift his shoulder one more time. Never hit him when his leg cramped up.

It was nice.

Very nice.

According to him, there was still a chance that his lower leg could regain some part of mobility. The whole plan they had informed him was that, when Joseph’s sentenced was served, he could live the rest of his life with the minimal mobile impairment. If everything turned out alright, Joseph could only need a cane to walk.

To Joseph standards it was more than enough.

“Joseph,” the nurse called him in the middle of craft time. In the left part of the round table, surrounded by color carton, scissors and stickers was Joseph fiddling with the latest assignment.

“You have visitors” She announced with a smile. Joseph blinked, dazed at the prospect of someone going through all the trouble to see him. “Would you like to see them?”

“Who?” He croaked, burying the excitement that rushed through his veins. Four months there and Joseph was ready to do anything that didn’t involve doctors poking his brain. His brain was itching for some human interaction that wasn’t nurses asking how he was feeling. “Can I see them now?”

“Sure,” She responded, grabbing the wheelchair. The asylum was big enough for one to get lost. There were many floors and wings there. The dangerous you were, the lower you go. Or that was what at least, the social worker told him.

It had been one of his major fears getting locked with in the third underground floor. Not only because it was dark and not enough lights but also because it was there were the major insane criminals were currently locked up.

As to the rest of the asylum there were floors dedicated exclusively to the patients such as the fourth floor which was almost as if a hospital had decided to migrate to Arkham’s. Joseph hasn’t fully memorized the asylum, but he was confident that in the next few years, he would get the grip of it.

The visiting room was on the first floor in the left wing. A big common area with multiple guards, and many tables with chairs.

 “They got a little late, but I’m sure if we hurry up you can have some fifteen minutes.”

He hummed in response, already excited. Unlike the rest, he’d never got a visitor before. Just when he thought the walk was infinite, the nurses fiddled with his wool hat and opened the door to the visiting room.

What he did not expect was looking at Dick Grayson there with one of his alpha’s seated not too far away. One of who had snatched Joseph’s mobility away. And just like that, all the progress Joseph made went to the thrash. He blinked, once maybe twice and even thought to pinch himself just to assure this was a hallucination.

It was not.

His heart began to beat faster and sweat started to form. He couldn’t understand why Dick Grayson was here, why he’d come all the way to see the man who hurt him. He wanted to speak and tell the nurse he didn’t want to see them, but his body froze.

“He’s all yours,” The nurse said dropping him off to his impending doom. “I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

And then she closed the _fucking_ door.

“Joseph,” Dick started with that awful smile Joseph had melted for. His skin had that soft glow, and there were a few more lines in his face that Joseph hadn’t seen before, but overall Dick looked healthy and happy. Pregnancy was doing for him, no doubt. “How are you?”

“Good,” He settled for ignoring the way Dick’s alpha looked at him. A small part of him warned him he needed to add something, or else Dick would know he was lying. But what else would he say to him? Life on the asylum was…was…

“Why…what,” He started ignoring how much he wanted to disappear. Protection, he thought with desperation, he wanted to be back to his room cocooned under the many blankets the Asylum had granted him for his behavior. “Are you doing here?”

Dick frowned, almost as if Joseph had told him he met with the President.

“I’m visiting you because you’re my friend Joseph,” He said, holding his hands against him with another smile. Joseph on the other hand, wanted to scream. “I know it’s been such a long time since we last saw, but I figured you wanted to see a friendly face. They call and told me you’ve been behaving very good lately.”

What, he though but then the question formed to a panicked why. Why would the kind caring doctor, call Dick Grayson? He wasn’t…he wasn’t even family to begin with! He shouldn’t even be informed of such things! Those things were reserved to family (that he had none, thank you) or legal guardian-

Wait.

 No, no and _no_. Surely the judge would be sensible enough to find another legal that _wasn’t the one who Joseph assault_. He didn’t have much grasp on the law, but it was illogical to begin with. For fuck sakes, he had assaulted Dick Grayson!

Without looking at Dick, he asked him.

“Are you my legal guardian?”

“It’s Bruce Wayne, actually” The other _(the same one who had smiled as Joseph bled)_ piped in. “He spoke to the judge so they give him temporary guardianship, until the state can find you another one. Something about charity case.”

The words hit like him, making him recoil as he’d been burned.

“Charity case?” He spoke softly.

Dick growled, shaking his head.

“No, you’re not Joseph. Ignore Slade, he’s being an asshole, who will gladly go away since he doesn’t know how to _behave_ ” Dick stressed, flashing his teeth in warning. Dick’s alpha, to Joseph surprise, took a few steps back.

“Joseph, I’m so sorry about that,” He apologized once Slade was out of earshot. “Ever since the baby, well…you know. Apparently, his overdrive instinct is making him be more than an asshole about usual. You’re not a charity case. Bruce just wanted to make sure you were going to be treated fairly, and since no one of your family could take care of you…”

He bit down his lips, wishing just for a second, Dick’s alpha had killed him instead. God, he’d been so dumb thinking that…all those physical therapy appointments had been free. The constant check-ups, the blankets, the clothes.

 It made sense, didn’t it? Probably the cute therapist was being paid to be nice to him. Because, why would they be nice to him, anyways? He was a failure, an abuser, a horrible person who had attacked Bruce’s Wayne eldest kid-

“Joseph,” Dick’s worried face broke his train of thoughts. “Have they…have they being treating you well. You can tell me if they’re not. Bruce will make sure things change. Are they treating you right? Have you been doing alright?”

He stuttered, his mind going blank. What could he tell him? That the doctor diagnosed him as suppressant resistant? That he was still having phantom pain in his lower extremities? How many times he’d cried over the week at the loneliness or the frustration that came with living in an Asylum?

 “I’m good,” He voiced because even if he wanted to tell him all those things, it was better to shut up. He didn’t have the right to speak about that to Dick. He’d lost it all the moment he tried to hurt him.

“I’m glad.” Dick continued, rubbing his belly. Whatever Dick said next went to deaf ears. Joseph simply sat there, while Dick rambled but his mind was in another place. The pain in his chest was becoming harder to ignore, and Joseph guessed he would have little more than five minutes before the nurse came with the meditation. The kind that Joseph hated because it made him groggy and dizzy.

“…the baby is fine…. The doctor said you’re still having a hard time adjusting to this new place. And I thought…”

So of course, he wasn’t having the easiest time here in Asylum. He was grieving for the freedom he would never have back. For the freedom he hadn’t been able to enjoy since his family sold him off to _that_ alpha.

 For as long as he could remembered, Joseph had one dream and that had been college. His family (when he used to have one) had been poor as shit, but Joseph had held the hope that maybe he could get a scholarship at Gotham University. Joseph wasn’t a genius or anything like that, but he worked hard.

Until one day his father barged into his room and notified, he’d been sold. But even then, as he was going through the decade worth of damage done, he’d still held hope that someday he would finish his education and pursue his dream.

It was only after…the judged dictated his sentence that his dream shattered. Four months later and there he was, still processing he would stay here for an undefined amount of time. And that still shocked him from time to time.

“I don’t feel so good,” Joseph muttered, feeling sick of everything. Sick of having to live this way. Having to listen to Dick’s perfect life with and his future baby while he was going to rot here in Arkham. He didn’t need someone bragging into his face about everything he would never be and have. “Please call the nurse.”

Dick reached out his hand to comfort him, and Joseph heard him.

“I’ll drop him off,” The white-haired man spoke leaving no room to arguments. His hand started trembling at his side when the man dismissed Dick with just a gesture, who wanted to protest. One single eyebrow and that was all it took for Dick to be dismissed, who looked at him one last time with worry and said an apology.

Leaving him alone with _that_ man.

 “You don’t need to bother sir,” He didn’t finish the last of the sentence before the white-haired man threw a glance at him. No, he though panicking on the inside. He didn’t…he didn’t want to be in the same room with him. Please don’t, he prayed to whatever deity, leave me alone.

The man didn’t repeat himself and came nearer. The moment the man touched his wheelchair, a desperate growl came out of his throat. Leave me alone, Joseph thought in desperation, hadn’t he had enough damaging him? But the white-haired man had none of it, grabbing his shoulders near the cast and the healing tissue in a tight-vice grip.

Flashback of the night he was shot came to him an instant and he screamed, scared. He lashed out all he could, tried to bite for the wrist that was left open and vulnerable. He didn’t notice the pain that came once he fell off the wheelchair, in his futile attempt to escape, and contacted the floor with a sickening sound. 

He continued screaming, even when the nurses came rushing to aid him. Even when he finally stopped, the screams kept ringing in his ear. He tried to stop the sobs that came out of his throat once a doctor examined him with, as he was rushed to the emergency room. He was finally fucking done with everything. Done with trying to move

He was done.

* * *

“Joseph honey it’s alright,” The nurse soothed him, gently tucking away the blankets that he held (with his only functioning arm) as if life depended on it. It was the softest he had. The rest of his blankets were back in his room, picking up dust and what else while Joseph stayed in the recovery room. They hadn’t given him a prognosis but judging by the heavy bandages around his hip and the drugs, he’d fallen hard.

“I know you’re scared, but this will only take a moment,” She reassured him. Not far from her, was the tray with the wound care supplies. Despite all the precautions the wound from the surgery had become infected. Joseph grimaced when the nurse finally took off the bandages around his hip and started to work. Next came bathing and a brief massage to prevent blood clogging.

“Good boy,” She crooned at him once she finished pampering him. Not that Joseph registered it much, now high as a kite. While the lowers legs weren’t much of a problem (thanks sacral spinal Cord injury) it was the shoulder that made him test his pain tolerance.

“Do you want to see a movie?” She asked him with another smile. Joseph blinked when the nurse fussed him and turned on the TV. He was pretty sure he still hadn’t had permission to see media. Something about…trauma? Exposure?

Whatever.

“Mussssic,” He slurred out, forcing whatever muscle to open his mouth. A little bit drool ran freely from his opened mouth. The nurse did just as he told, picking up a random radio channel. She chuckled at Joseph’s betrayed expression when some of the drool got on the hospital’s gown.

“Anything else?” The nurse checked her watch, knowing she had some minutes left before having to tend other patients. While Arkham’s patient always had either a nurse or a guard nearby to prevent accident, Joseph Smith was an exception to the rule.

He was sweetest boy Arkham’s asylum ever had.

In all the time Mary had worked there as a nurse, she’d never seen a patient like Joseph. The whole medical department didn’t know what to do with him either, because all the other methods they imparted on the other patient were too harsh. It was the first time in all Arkham asylum history they ever had a patient who was so soft nature.

The boy couldn’t even hurt a fly if he wanted too. Heck even to this day, Mary didn’t know how the hell Joseph had ended up here. The judge dictating Joseph to serve his sentence in Arkham was almost as if he’d given him a death sentence.

Arkham…was way too cruel and unforgiving. There was no doubt that the day Joseph had to share room with any Arkham’s inmate, the other would waste no time in using and breaking him. They would even murder him with ease. And that was something that the rest of Arkham medical team knew too.

Which was why they had taken other measures to protect him. While isolation wasn’t the most preferred option (it was even used as punishment to other patients like Joker) it was the only way to evade Joseph from interacting with the other inmates.

Until they found another solution to transfer Joseph into a more…suitable facility, Joseph would have to stay that way. There was even a high possibility of reforming him into a better person. Perhaps Joseph would never heal completely from his trauma and abuse, but with the right facility and treatment in mind, Joseph could become once again functional member of society.  

And as if he’d just read her, he began to purr.

“Oh baby,” She murmured in sympathy. They hadn’t gotten to break the news to him too. While the wound shot hadn’t left him fully paraplegic, it had been the fall that had broken his hip that had fucked up chance of ever walking again. Everybody knew that this past few weeks, Joseph Smith, had been working extra hard to gain some mobility.

But now?

Joseph would be lucky if he could even move his left arm again.


End file.
